


Mirthless

by Dragonphage



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age II
Genre: Blink and you'll miss it, Gen, M/M, might as well call it pre-everything, vague pairing tag is vague, warning for what is basically an anxiety attack?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-16
Updated: 2016-01-16
Packaged: 2018-05-14 06:04:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,360
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5732089
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dragonphage/pseuds/Dragonphage
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>an unusual reaction to being scared or anxious leads to some confusion</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mirthless

The clanking of armour caused a spike in his heart’s rhythm and he could feel the corners of his mouth twitching. Sod it, sod it all to the void and back. He turned heel and darted down an alley, or what passed as an alley in hightown anyway, already feeling the lump form at the base of his throat. It could just be a guard he told himself, guards weren’t totally trustworthy either another part supplied. He hissed at both of them to shut up and strained his ears before daring a glance to confirm which kind of armoured git it was this time.

The flaming sword of andraste filled his vision and burned itself onto his retinas for a while even as he pressed himself against the alley wall and gulped a breath. Shaking and biting his lip he berated himself for being afraid in one thought and chanted a litany of comforting nothings the next.

Had it been anything but hightown he would find solace in a quick getaway and a few calming hours in his clinic, safe behind a wall of dust and sewage and doggedly loyal fereldans. Hightown alleys were just small dead ends between houses, maker knows if they were just an architectural oversight or if they’d once had a malicious purpose not unlike everything else in this cursed place. Right now their only purpose seemed to be places to hide raider loot or, if he’d been in a better mindset, a quickie for the adventurous. Not a good hiding place. Not an escape. A dead end. A corner.

The couple of templars passed the small alcove murmuring exasperatedly amongst themselves, indicating they’d not even seen him dart in. Good, excellent! He didn’t entertain the notion that he was in the clear just yet though. His cheeks and chest hurt from suppressing the bubbling hysterical laughter that threatened to escape at any moment and now was Not a Good Time for that. Granted it was never really a good time for that. This particular reaction had gotten him into trouble just as assuredly as his conscious insubordination had.

One more glance to make sure the bastards had their backs turned and he could make a quick totally not suspicious walk towards the exit of this particular dead end behind their backs and dart into the closest friendly-ish doorway. He followed at a relatively safe distance making sure not to stare, he’d learned the hard way people always knew when you were staring. Too anxious to trust himself to be able to wait until they were further away and not certain they weren’t just pacing in circles to avoid patrolling lowtown for another few minutes, or hours. Maker he’d never make that mistake again neither his knees nor his nerves could take it.

He was smiling like a maniac hunched over ready to bolt walking behind the two meandering clods of armour and he knew anyone watching would look twice and think him mad. Attention, unwanted, did not need. The steps seemed to crawl as they made their way out of the dead end and into the larger street. Just a little more. Just a few more paces. He could hear their voices but not clearly enough to hear what they were talking about, that is until he heard his name mentioned. A panicked sound came out as a barked out “Hah!” poorly concealed with a cough and a hand clamped over his mouth as fast as lighting. Luckily they were already there and he darted in the old flaking door of the ‘haunted hightown mansion’ and closed it with a practised ease and nary a sound.

There were no shouts of confusion, no banging of armoured fists on the door. He still had his hand pressed so firmly over his face he could barely breathe. Then he felt it bubbling up from his chest in a low rumble. Air snorting out of his nose completely without his control. A scuffling noise came from over the flight of stairs signalling the resident elf had caught on to having a visitor. Anders looked up to meet the sight of a confused brow lowered over eyes glinting yellow and green in the low light, mouth set in its permanent frown and then the dam broke. Arms falling to his sides he heard himself distantly as he laughed and laughed until he heaved a breath only to laugh even more.

Soon enough his knees gave out and he slid to the floor still laughing, still trembling, still pressed against the old rotting door. Several times he tried to breathe deeper, tried to sniff back the impending tears only to fall into giggling that got him going again. Fenris had descended the stairs and he could see the lyrium adorned feet as he stood there watching without saying anything for a while.

“What’s so funny mage.” he demanded after a while. Anders shook his head and clutched his aching stomach trying to gain a breath that wouldn’t be wasted on more of the same. Eventually he choked down the sounds under the knot in his throat long enough to get something out. “Nothi-” he started giggling again “nothing’s _funny_ you-” a sniffle followed by another short guffaw “ass.”

No doubt the prickly sod was frowning even deeper now. Anders finally felt hot tears start to slide down and he furiously wiped them. “Then why are you _laughing_?”

He started feeling anger welling under the hysteria and it gave him the strength to take three heaving breaths and meet his gaze with a wet glare “Because I just am and I can’t stop!” he shouted and gasped “leave me alone.”

It appeared the reaction was finally done this time, anger having taken over for now. He continued to glare at the elf who had taken a step forward, brows knitted in question and maker why were all his expressions just different versions of a frown! How many different frowns were even possible until you’d exhausted them all because it certainly hadn’t happened yet.

“Sometimes people just… laugh. Even when it isn’t funny. _Especially_ when it isn’t funny.” He whispered, tucking a stray strand of hair that had come loose back behind his ear. Fenris just blinked slowly and looked towards the door as if he could see through it to the street outside. Discern what was beyond even when the explanation has long since passed. “You were hiding, here.” He concluded after a moment.

“Yeah.” he sniffed a final time, rubbing his nose on his sleeve. His entire face was probably puffy and red. How embarrassing. “Templars, got cornered in an alcove..” he trailed off without any intention to elaborate. Fenris blinked again, offered a small but not unnoticable nod and made no motion to go anywhere.

Anders got his breathing under control and waited for his strength to return, when it did he stood and cleared his throat awkwardly. “Well! As enlightening as this has been I must be going. People to heal, manifesto to write. Sorry about taking up your time and space except you know… you’re a git so I’m not really sorry and I might do it again if I have to.” He clapped his hands and managed the most fake smile he knew before reaching for the door that was stopped from opening by an armoured hand. Close enough to feel body heat radiating off of the warrior he turned enough to level a suspicious look at him. “Uh, mind letting me out? Unless you _want_ me to stay here but I don’t really think you do. _I_ sure as the void don’t want to stay anyway so if you would?” He pushed the door a little but it didn’t budge. Fenris took a sharp breath and opened his mouth but seemed to decide against speaking.

A noncommittal grunt came out instead. He let the door go.

“I don’t lock it.” he said, when Anders was halfway out onto the street.

“Does it even have a functioning lock anymore?” Anders retorted with a grin and closed the door before an answer could be made, or heard.


End file.
